


smile, dad

by Groco



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Batfamily, Bruce Wayne Has Feelings, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Coming Out, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nurse Dick Grayson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 06:40:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20737865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Groco/pseuds/Groco
Summary: Robin has ended his partnership with Batman, but Dick Grayson is still known to the public as Bruce Wayne’s son, and even in private, there are things that still haven't changed.





	smile, dad

**Author's Note:**

> Brief mentions of Dick getting shot

On the list of things Dick was totally over with right now, “Keeping Up Appearances” was pretty high up. 

It had bothered him a lot of times in the past. Being a kid with no experience with the press and having cameras shoved in your face was one thing. Being a kid with a strict code of conduct that went against everything being a kid was about was one thing. Being a _ teenager _and getting pretty fed up with the pomp and circumstance was one thing.

But the current Dick was far less pleased with it and certainly less easily sated. Because Dick was _ done _ with Bruce right now, or at least Batman, or whatever parts of each that mixed into the other’s life. Robin had been discarded and Nightwing was the fledgling vigilante identity Dick was establishing as he tried to establish his civilian life in Blüdhaven as well.

Robin could depart from Batman, but there was only so far Dick Grayson could distance himself from Bruce Wayne.

Without talk, at least. And that was the important part of it all.

If Dick didn't look at a TV or newspaper stand he wouldn't have to acknowledge any buzz about Robin’s disappearance, but being Dick, _ himself _, wasn't a mask he could so easily take off. 

At his age, setting out on his own was far from unusual. The problem was the “Keeping Up Appearances” part. _ Physical _ appearances. Galas. God, _ galas _.

He didn't know if it was intentional, but this particular charity auction was benefiting foster children. Dick, stuck between a rock and a hard place. The choice wasn't difficult, which was all the more aggravating. 

In truth, he didn't know how his reunion with Bruce would go. Or rather, how it would play when the two were in public. 

It didn't happen there at all, in the end. Dick could easily make an appearance, mingle, and move through the crowd without running into Bruce all night. He saw him, of course, but he looked away as soon as he glanced towards him. More troubling was the years of training that left him subconsciously aware of Bruce’s presence at all times.

He was good. He'd done his job. Hopefully, he contributed to some good things happening. 

Then came the cleanup, and steadfast, faithful Alfred. God, _ Alfred _. Dick had always tried to ease the burden and pitch in with these things, and even if he was no longer at the manor, and he and Bruce weren't on good terms, this was something he didn't think twice about. 

It was nice. His last days at the manor didn't overshadow the years spent there, and the sense of home warming Dick’s heart as he helped Alfred in the scullery. It was the same as always, Dick’s dress shirt’s sleeves rolled up, and Alfred instructing and correcting him, still, after all these years.

Maybe he was a little homesick. It was his childhood home, more than anywhere else he'd live had ever been. He loved the place, besides those few bad memories. That's how he ended up in his old room, paging through comics he'd left on his nightstand months ago. 

The knock on the door was the one thing Dick had been dead set on ignoring all night.

“Alfred told me you helped him clean up.”

Dick kept his back to the door. “Yeah, I did.”

Two footsteps passed the threshold. Because it was Bruce, they were deliberate, of course. He was letting Dick know he was approaching, warning him and letting him have the choice to stop it. 

Bruce was treating this with fragility, which just made Dick more upset. Would he be faced with hesitant restraint and noncommittal closure?

“We didn't see each other much, but I saw you working your way through. I hope you didn't have a hard time.”

Dick wasn't a child. Believe him, he'd learned the ropes hard and fast. 

“It was fine. You know me, I can handle those things just fine.”

There was a moment of silence, and the beginning of Bruce clearing his throat. The tension was there, and Dick had initiated it.

A few more deliberate steps towards the nightstand. “Well. You looked good tonight. Your necktie looks well done. I know Alfred is-”

That was that, and Dick finally turned towards Bruce. “I can do a lot of things on my own now. I can tie these by myself."

Bruce hesitated, calculating his response. _ Always _ calculating, to the point that Dick wondered if Bruce ever said what he really thought.

“I just mean to say it's very well done. You’ve definitely surpassed me in skill. You were a better student for Alfred than I ever was.”

God, _ Alfred _.

Bruce was self-deprecating as an in. Okay. “Yeah… definitely mostly Alfred’s work.”

Bruce chuckled, and Dick mostly restrained the small smile tugging on his lips.

There was another moment of silence, and another small footstep. “So…how’s school going?”

School he could mention. Vigilantism he could not.

Dick let out a breath, resigning himself to sit on the edge of his old bed. “Fine. Busy.”

Bruce paused again at Dick’s short answer. He didn’t take a step.

“That’s...I’m very proud of you, Dick. That’s good work you’re doing. I know you’ll do good.”

“I’m doing good in a lot of different ways, you know that.” Dick hoped his look was searing. There wasn’t a chance of getting shot at nursing school. _ That _ Bruce could allow.

And _ there _were the pursed lips. There was the tired look of a man who’d had this conversation many times before. There was Bruce’s patience running thin.

“Dick, you have to realize it’s because I care about you. That’s my reasoning, my priority at the end of the day. I... I’ve hoped I’ve been a good father figure for you, but I can’t agree with every decision you make, especially when you’re...reckless.”

Dick ignored the ‘reckless’ comment. That was a conversation they’d had enough.“‘Father figure’...maybe I’m just rebelling against my dad, Bruce. Let me have my phase, alright.”

The was an edge off of Bruce, for a second. “Most phases don’t have deadly consequences.”

“Oh- alright. Then maybe I’m following in my old man’s footsteps. Are you proud of me yet.” Dick flopped onto the bed. No more looking at Bruce.

“Richard.” Dick was struck by the serious tone. It was not fueled by anger and exhaustion. It was soft, almost, in the way Bruce would address him after nightmares, a decade ago. The certainty in his voice, in a promise of safety. “I have always been proud of you."

He was speechless for a moment. His throat was tight, but he tried not to show it. “Well. It. It doesn’t feel like it.

Bruce’s steps were no longer hesitant, no longer careful or awaiting Dick’s approval. He sat on the bed, eyes trained on Dick, who kept his gaze towards the ceiling.

“Dick. I have _ always _ been proud of you. I’m _ still _ proud of you. If you want nothing to do with me, I’ll still be proud. I don’t _ want _ you out there anymore, and it’s not because I think you’re unsuitable, or unworthy, or not good enough. You have always been good at what you’ve done. It’s because I’m _ scared _ . I know what it's done to me, what it can do to people. Dick, I don't want you to end up like me. You're too good. You are…so good at so many things. You could do so much good without it. You already _ are _ . Sometimes I think I never should have let you out there, and what experiences I might have kept you from having, or allowed to happen to you. I didn't do _ good _ , Dick. _ I _ let this happen. I'm trying to fix that.”

The hand resting next to Dick’s arm was shaking, and he could hear the wavering in Bruce’s voice, but he could not see his face. 

And _ god _, Dick couldn't stop his emotions. He couldn't hold up the walls of anger keeping him from allowing Bruce in. 

“You've…you weren't bad, Bruce. I- I...you did _ everything _ for me. Being Robin...no, it wasn't _ everything _ but it...it was _ our _ thing. I wanted to make you proud. I thought that was how. I thought...I-I don't _ know _ what I thought, Bruce. I just wanted something to...I had to do something, what was I supposed to _ do _, how could I show you it was worth anything. You didn't act like there were expectations but I felt them, I always felt them. So Robin was- it- the only way- I couldn't- I couldn't-”

And _ god _he couldn't hold it in, and he was sobbing like he was nine, like there was nothing left in the world for him. 

“Richard.” There was determination, and Bruce held firmly to Dick’s shoulder, leaning his face over into Dick’s view. 

“I have never expected anything from you. All I have ever wanted was your happiness, your safety and well-being. And you have only made me proud. You're a son to me, and I've only wanted to provide for you and make you feel like you had someone there for you-”

“You're so _ dense _ sometimes,” Dick choked out. Despite the sting in his eyes and the tears on his cheeks, he managed a rueful smile. “You _ are _ my dad, Bruce. You've been my dad longer than m-my...then he was. You don't think I see you like that? I know you self sabotage every relationship in your life, but you've ended up stuck with me. You got me, whether you meant to or not.”

Dick looked over to Bruce then, and saw his jaw was clenched and his lips pursed, the muscles in his neck taut. 

“I've never been happier than to have you as you as my son. You saved me too, Dick. I never want you to doubt that.” 

Dick lifted himself up, shaking, his hands clutching the comforter, and he was pleading, “Just let me, _ please _ , please let me just- I-I have to, Bruce I-I- _ please _ let me prove I’m- I feel like _ n-nothing _, d-dad-” his voice broke.

Bruce’s heart broke. He held onto Dick, who had never cried like this since he was a child in grief. But Bruce felt responsible for this. And in the present, this was his son.

“I was proud of the first A you got in school. I was proud when you tied your first tie by yourself. I was proud when- I was so _ happy _ when I saw your face when you pointed at Robin’s first appearance on the news. I was happy with every smile you gave. I was so happy when Alfred took our picture the day you were adopted.”

Dick shook and shook, and Bruce held him tight, so the monsters and sadness and bad dreams would stay away. 

“I missed you-” Dick managed, “I felt so alone. I thought you were mad at me and were taking _ everything _ away finally, t-that’d I’d finally messed up for good- I thought I'd lost even _ more _. I didn’t know how to live without you and Alfred there. You gave me support and advice and...I had no parents once, and I'd forgotten how lost I was without one. I didn't want to lose my dad. I didn't want to feel alone again.”

“Shh. I'm here. I'm always in your corner.” Tears were soaking Bruce’s suit jacket, the sobs and voice that came out deeper, and the son he held was bigger but not yet stronger than he was all those years ago.

“It's been so _ hard _ . I don't know how to fight crime alone. School is hard and I don't know how to balance the two now and I'm alone trying to do it. I can barely sleep, and I don't want to mess up and I _ can’t _ mess up. Everything’s different, _ I’m _ different, and I'm by myself and lost and I'm discovering things and I have _ no one _ to talk to. All this has hit me so fast a-and I don't know who will understand or who I can tell it all to. I just wanted _ to tell _ _ you_. I've been going crazy keeping everything in. Like, I-I’m _ gay _ Bruce, I'm bi. I've wanted to tell tell you all these things and I know I should tell you but there's our fight and I _ can't _ . I suddenly can't- tell my _ dad _ about this and I realized I've never felt like this in so long because of you. I've been scared and I don't know what to do and everything is too much. I just needed to talk to my _ dad _. And I couldn’t.”

A shuddering breath passed by Dick’s ear, and Bruce’s hands clutched tighter onto Dick’s back. “You can tell me, Dick. _ Always _. I will never be so mad at you that I won't care about these things. I know at times I've...failed to remember it, but you're my son first. I...need to be your dad first. Our fight changes none of that. Batman and Robin are not my priority, Dick Grayson is.”

Dick’s sobs grew quieter, and Bruce held back any sound as tears too leaked from his eyes. When his crying waned to sniffles and his voice was mostly still, Dick said, “You're a good dad, Bruce.”

Bruce couldn't hold back the sob that escaped him then. 

When calm settled into them and silence filled the air, Dick pulled back and rubbed the heel of his palm against his cheeks. “I'm glad I know now. I'm glad I can finally tell you all this.”

Bruce, still filled with the regret of letting Dick become so far gone, furrowed his brows as he reached a hand out and said, “I’m sorry I didn't express to you enough that you're loved.”

Dick’s eyes were still red and his cheeks were still wet, but he let out a small huff of laughter. His smile was small, but the crinkle in his eyes was bemused. “Hey, don't you worry about it anymore. I won't let you go full out self-deprecating over this, okay? You _ were _ good, so lighten up.”

Bruce’s sigh was not mournful, but relieved. “We're okay.”

Dick’s smile grew wider. “Yeah. We’ll always be okay.” He nudged Bruce's arm. “No more brooding for the both of us, so c’mon. Smile, dad.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Second fic completed! And this time it only took me a couple days, not 6 months. Thank you to the discord for the idea of Dick coming out (though I totally ended up derailing it and making myself crying writing it), and thank you to Wes for the nurse Dick headcanon!
> 
> tumblr is gwystyl ;^)


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